A Young Mother
I watched her young face contort in pain, her breathing growing more labored by the second. A cup full of ice chips flew across the room. "I don’t want this" she yelled. I dodged the ice, and waited for the pain to relent a bit. When the monitor attached to her belly indicated that the contraction had ended, I approached her. I caressed her hand and explained my job. I told her that I would be at the birth to make sure her baby was okay. She looked at me, through a fringe of dark bangs- and my heart tugged in the realization that she was, herself, just a baby. Sixteen years old, and scared. Sixteen years old, and about to take on a job that even I, 8 years her senior, felt unprepared for. Motherhood.
I thought about that word: Motherhood. It seemed too big- too important for someone so small and so unprepared. I thought about what it must feel like to be a mother, and I felt sad that she would know that feeling even before she knew what it felt like to be a woman.
Sixteen is for self-discovery. Make-up and cars. Slumber parties and school dances. Football games and Friday nights. Sixteen isn't for diaper changes and late night feedings. And, it isn't for the unending sacrifices of motherhood.
When I returned to her room later, the baby was close to being born. I recalled Psalm 139: "For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb". A familiar mix of awe and humility stirred deep in my chest, and I knew that this child wasn't a mistake. "I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well."
Not long after, a baby boy was born. Pink and fat. His mouth wide in an urgent cry. Demanding. Already demanding. I wrapped him tightly in a warm blanket and held him in my arms. "Happy Birthday, Baby" I whispered. "You are a child of God- above all- you are His child. Remember that."
The new mother looked at me for a moment and we locked eyes. Already she looked older and I felt a tug of sadness again. She asked if he was okay and I said "He looks great, I think he'll be fine". And, I silently prayed that she would be, too.
I handed the baby boy to his young mother and congratulated her. I told her that he was handsome and strong. She smiled at him, and giant tears rolled down her face.
"Welcome to motherhood" I whispered.
I thought about that word: Motherhood. It seemed too big- too important for someone so small and so unprepared. I thought about what it must feel like to be a mother, and I felt sad that she would know that feeling even before she knew what it felt like to be a woman.
Sixteen is for self-discovery. Make-up and cars. Slumber parties and school dances. Football games and Friday nights. Sixteen isn't for diaper changes and late night feedings. And, it isn't for the unending sacrifices of motherhood.
When I returned to her room later, the baby was close to being born. I recalled Psalm 139: "For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb". A familiar mix of awe and humility stirred deep in my chest, and I knew that this child wasn't a mistake. "I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well."
Not long after, a baby boy was born. Pink and fat. His mouth wide in an urgent cry. Demanding. Already demanding. I wrapped him tightly in a warm blanket and held him in my arms. "Happy Birthday, Baby" I whispered. "You are a child of God- above all- you are His child. Remember that."
The new mother looked at me for a moment and we locked eyes. Already she looked older and I felt a tug of sadness again. She asked if he was okay and I said "He looks great, I think he'll be fine". And, I silently prayed that she would be, too.
I handed the baby boy to his young mother and congratulated her. I told her that he was handsome and strong. She smiled at him, and giant tears rolled down her face.
"Welcome to motherhood" I whispered.
posted by Unknown at 9:39 AM
7 Comments:
"magnificent. the boy is gone. in the last thirty seconds... you became a grown-up." -J.M. Barrie, Finding Neverland
Beautiful. Magnificently beautiful. Em - I was standing right there in the room with you and I couldn't read through this without tears coming to my eyes. What a precious, scary place to e - thanks be to God for not making us do it alone...
Yeah, Em, that was great. What a trying thing to experience at such a young age, and yet what a glorious thing it is, too. It is easy for us (or at least me) to curse a life because of the fallen nature of this world and the people in it, but Life is truly something grand and beyond full comprehension.
Life is a beautiful gift, and only the sin that is in this world makes it *seem* depressing or worthless or pointless. But life, that is something to savor for all eternity. How much more does this make me want to be a part of the Great Commission, so that others will be there enjoying eternity with me!
Emmers, that was epic. Truly epic.
Wow...great observation...thanks for showing your walk with Christ as this world reminds you of Scripture and as you pray for strangers, previously unknown by you but loved by God nonetheless.
yes, I did finish "The Return of the Prodigal Son" and it was wonderful. I love the insight and wisdom of Henri Nouwen
My sister had her son at 15. I only wish she'd had someone like you to talk with, someone that wouldn't judge her. The beginning might have gone a lot better if she had. You write beautifully, wonderful talent.
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